Yggdrasil
by Resha04
Summary: And from his death, life flows out. HetaOni.


_Hey, why do we have to go through all this?_

He couldn't believe his eyes, he couldn't believe his mind, he couldn't believe all of these.

_Why do have to see all this?_

The wall bloomed crimson, the floor was dyed red, the one person he loved more than anything in this world was bleeding his life out.

_Why does this have to happen?_

And everything around him was silent. The ugly corpse of the murderer dissipated without a sound behind them, and he was silent.

That wasn't the sound of his breath, or anyone else's breath

_Why can't we escape this nightmare?_

Cold, it was cold, although outside the sun was shining

shining like nothing happened, bursting colors onto the bleak walls, dancing on the red red red.

_Why does it have to be my brother?_

Japan tried, he really did. He pressed his hand on the hole on his brother's stomach, but it kept bleeding and staining his hands red.

America pulled out everything he had from his pockets, from candies to cigarette to a box of tissue, he said he had a roll of bandage somewhere, he knew he did.

But he was silent and he felt cold.

"Veneziano…"

_Why did it have to be my brother?_

Alone was sad, alone was unbearable, alone was painful.

Liar, liar, liar. He said he wouldn't leave him alone.

Liar, his brother was a liar. He should've known that he shouldn't believe in something called promise ever again.

His brother opened his outstretched palm and showed him the key, stained red with his blood, a nation's blood, a human's blood,

his _brother's_ blood.

That was all that required for their escape, for their life, for the world to turn around again, for the nightmare to dissolve into the fading darkness of the night.

A nation's blood, a human's blood, his brother's blood.

He didn't realize when he'd fallen to his knees and grasped his brother's hand.

He was cold and his brother's hand was too.

Japan was still trying, his face twisted in desperation, blood smeared his face. America had run back to their safe base, shouting something about getting the medical kit. Next to him, Spain was dead silent, his green eyes were bloodshot and he had his brother's other hand in his, holding it like it was a lifeline.

"Sorry," His brother's golden eyes were clouded with pain, his breath came out short and ragged, but his expression was gentle. "This is… the only way I know how."

"It's not," He choked.

"That… monster…" He coughed, hard, and blood splattered all over him. "Not… that smart… Couldn't tell… me from you… But, don't know… if it'll… keep the promise."

Spain closed his eyes, sorrow and pain clear in the crease of his brows. But he didn't let go, and neither did he.

"It's not stopping," He could hear Japan's desperate mutter between them, but aside of that, everything was mute.

"I'm sorry, Veneziano."

"Liar."

He almost spat the word. Why were his eyes hot? He must not cry. He shouldn't cry in front of this liar. Not him, of all people.

"Alone… is painful." He gave him a painful look, and they were there again. Grandpa Rome was crumbling on his knees and his little self was crying, because Grandpa was going to die and he would be alone, he didn't have anyone in this world.

"I'm so sorry, Feliciano."

He cursed himself because he was crying, hot and painful tears leaving scars on his cheeks.

"Liar!" He hated how his voice broke, how his lungs burned, how his heart clenched. "I hate you! You said we should share the pain! You said I don't have to bear this all alone! You said-"

He hated how he faltered on the look of his brother's face. "I did. But… even though… you'd never forgive me…"

America was back and Japan was all but snatching the medical box from him. But he didn't let go, even though his fingers were slipping from the blood and he was shaking in rage. He didn't let go.

"At least… you'll live on…"

_Why is the sun still shining outside? Why is everything around me is silent?_

He felt his brother's fingers curled up slowly around his, although his grasp was weak. Next to him, Spain tensed.

And then it was deadly silent. No more the sound of movements around him, no more the sound of even his own breath. He was numb, and everything was mute.

The fingers around his went slack, and all of a sudden he was holding the empty air. He felt like the earth was taken away from below him.

Nothing, just nothing anymore.

"Liar!"

Everything inside him suddenly started to burst, and he lashed out, but he was being dragged away from his brother and he couldn't reach him, he couldn't punch him, he couldn't shake him, he couldn't-

"I hate you! I HATE YOU!"

Everything was burning, Grandpa was crumbling into dust and wind scattered him all around, the grass was hot beneath his tiny palms, but the blood was cold on his fingers.

"You're not my brother! I HATE YOU!"

"Veneziano, that's enough!"

Burning, everything was burning, all crimson red inside him and on his hands and on his clothes and blooming on the walls before him and leaking out like a broken drain from his brother, from the liar.

And something tore him from inside, clawing on his chest and reopening the old wounds, reopening the old memories of wind taking Grandpa away and war taking Holy Rome away, taking Germany away, of ugly creature with merciless eyes taking his friends away.

He almost couldn't make out Spain hovering over the lifeless body as if protecting him, pressing a gentle kiss on the cold forehead and holding him there, didn't let go even though it was all over.

It was all over. There was no restart, there was no turning back time, there was no his brother anymore, walking out of this hell with him, smiling instead of scowling, not complaining although Germany was next to him.

"_At least… you'll live on."_

But it was all over for him.

* * *

**The horrible possibility that's been going on in my head since the last time I watched HetaOni. This is going to have a sequel.**

**Constructive criticisms are always welcomed. Thank you for reading**


End file.
